221/365 Standing in the Magic Chef Kitchen

Astrid and Clark's wedding anniversary was this month sometime, and they had a party. A lot of people I know were there--through knitting or neighborhood or church. I spent most of the evening with book club and knitting folks, eating dinner on the extremely hot patio--we were at the Magic Chef Mansion on Russell, by the way--and perusing a book of plates depicting St. Louis in 1875. That could have taken my entire evening, grasping at the bits of knowledge I have about my urban poor ancestors who came here from Germany or famine decimated Ireland. Streets that don't exist anymore, houses, churches.

But I got up to get a second wedge of gooey butter cake from the butler's pantry and there was Colleen O'Toole (the O'Tooles are the only folks on this blog who have a last name because in real life, they are almost always referred to by first and last name. You would never say "I was talking to Colleen" but always "Colleen O'Toole"). She was talking with Yvette and with a couple I didn't know. I eavesdropped. I made a grand sweep of the gooey butter cake selection, slowly choosing something, and then stepped over to the sink to pour myself a cup of coffee (which turned out not to be decaf, but I didn't know that until later when I was wide awake at 2 in the morning). Sugar, cream, first sip. Then I turn around and shoulder my way into the conversation.

It's about a parishioner at a neighboring church, a leader, who was nominated to a diocesan-wide leadership position. Someone who has given his life to the church and to this particular cause. Then it became clear that he was gay, in a longterm relationship, and that was it. I have not researched the story and only know what I listened to there in the kitchen. The unnamed couple excused themselves, it was late, and Yvette went to collect her husband. Colleen O'Toole and I remained.

"This issue," she said, shaking her head. "This is what's going to get me kicked out of the church."

I thought quickly about all the issues that could get me kicked out of the church. But no--many of them are things I hold to myself and don't care that they aren't exactly in line with church teaching. None of them make me feel guilty; my conscience is clear on them. For instance, I think the Church's stance on birth control is ridiculous. I think the idea that we don't allow priests to marry is bizarre and should be reevaluated. I believe women should be given the right to church leadership. If the church has to be led by celibate men, parish leadership and clergy should be more broadly available. But these aren't things that I'm so wed to that I'm going to make a stand. The women priest movement doesn't interest me because so many Catholic feminists are so angry. I've been to prayer services with some of the women active in that movement locally and I wouldn't want them to be my pastor. Just for instance.

But there's a difference between "I think there should be changes to the priesthood" and whether we're going to close our doors to an entire wedge of the population.

"Yeah," I nodded after this split second of consideration. "Me too."